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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605394">this possibility of you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/pseuds/seinmit'>seinmit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Goat Herder Bucky Barnes, M/M, Quintuple Drabble, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:13:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/pseuds/seinmit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was greedy to know each and every tiny detail of Bucky's Wakandan life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Chocolate Box - Round 5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>this possibility of you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctecat/gifts">noctecat</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49218/poem-for-my-love">Poem for my Love</a> by June Jordon.</p><blockquote>
  <p>How do we come to be here next to each other<br/>in the night<br/>Where are the stars that show us to our love<br/>inevitable<br/>Outside the leaves flame usual in darkness<br/>and the rain<br/>falls cool and blessed on the holy flesh<br/>the black men waiting on the corner for<br/>a womanly mirage<br/>I am amazed by peace<br/>It is this possibility of you<br/>asleep<br/>and breathing in the quiet air</p>
</blockquote>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve helplessly snooped whenever he was visiting Bucky. He would find his way into Bucky’s medicine cabinet and run his fingers greedily into the crevices of his underwear drawer. He knew the names of all Bucky’s goats and he memorized the way the light was swallowed by the darkness of the countryside when looking out of Bucky’s back door. He followed Bucky on his chores and made an effort to put his feet in each track of Bucky’s sandals, memorizing his steps. </p><p>Bucky thought it was charming. Steve didn’t try to fool him and knew that he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Bucky made half-assed effort to scowl, but he was indulgent. When he caught Steve carefully inspecting each candy bar in the stash that Bucky kept in his freezer, he laughed and ruffled his hair.</p><p>(Steve just wanted to know, wanted to commit the worldwide brands—Hungarian, American, Wakandan—to memory. He wanted to pick out a bar of his own at a newspaper vendor anywhere and know with certainty that he was tasting precisely what Bucky tasted.)</p><p>Bucky started leaving notes in all the nooks and crannies of his place on Steve's third visit. It made Steve's exhaustive analysis into a mutual conversation.</p><p>"Go get milk," one read in the fridge, and Steve loved that he knew Bucky still bought cow’s milk even though he was overflowing with goat's, even though it went bad fast enough in the heat that he had to buy it each day he wanted it. </p><p> "Was Mrs. McKinsey the grocer’s wife?" said one underneath his pillow and Steve answered Bucky’s question by telling the story of his own misadventures as a grocer’s stockist and the stubborn determination he had to lift things half his weight. </p><p>Bucky listened, hand restlessly running up Steve’s bicep, hiding from the mid-afternoon heat in his dark bed. It was February, but it was still eighty degrees and they had no need to be in the sun. </p><p>Steve’s favorite note was one he found on his last day before leaving Wakanda, going back to his missions and his work. He was leafing through the small collection of paperbacks Bucky kept. Shuri despaired at his insistence on hard copy books, but Steve sympathized. They were all of them relics, after all. </p><p>He flipped the pages of one in Russian, eyes memorizing the Cyrillic. He would be able to close them and see the words in his memory, mysterious but perfectly recalled. </p><p>A slip of paper fell out and Steve opened it, already smiling. </p><p>It was a crude sketch of a fat little Cupid—Bucky was laboriously relearning how to draw, after decades and the loss of an arm—and underneath he had written <i>Be my Valentine.</i> </p><p>He looked up to see Bucky already smiling at him and Steve couldn’t help himself. </p><p>"What, no candy? You’re a cheap date." </p><p>Bucky laughed into Steve's mouth. Steve had all the sweetness he needed in this kiss and better yet, Bucky knew it.</p>
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